


Midalynn

by AltFire



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Backstory, Folk Hero Background, Gen, Sorcerer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 10:29:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11735196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AltFire/pseuds/AltFire
Summary: Delmirev Midalynn was born the same year her draconic ancestor died.--My backstory for my dragonborn folk hero sorcerer.





	Midalynn

Delmirev Midalynn was born in a small village of gold dragonborn the same year their draconic ancestor and benefactor - an ancient gold dragon called Midas - died. He had been defending the village from an evil sorcerer who had animated the entire nearby forest as an army when he overexerted, drawing upon inner fire when there was none left and draining his own life in exchange for victory. She was raised with the stories - of how his heroism was why she was alive, how her mother was the only villager who died that day. Midalynn couldn't remember what happened, of course, but she was proud of the connection she had with Midas and when the time came, she chose her adult name after him.

Her whole life she was especially proud of her fire, stronger and hotter than anyone else in the village. She ached to put it to good use, but the most interesting thing she could do with it in town was lighting the forge while she trained under Vornash "Old Draz" Drazavur, the blacksmith. It wasn't a total waste, however - she discovered another natural affinity, this time for metalwork, and she threw herself into it with fervor. Within months of training she was nearly on par with her master, and he often hinted that one day she would take his place.

Of course, destiny always finds a way, and Midalynn was destined for greater things.

Years passed and one day when she was returning from town with a wagon full of raw materials for the forge, she noticed the town was eerily empty, shutters closed and even the children locked away. Upon a cursory investigation, she was horrified to find something she'd only heard about in stories - a massive, walking tree creature, like the ones her namesake had defeated so long ago. Had one managed to escape and survive?

In her shock and terror she froze, and the creature batted her away, lumbering after her with purpose. Midalynn scrambled to her feet and used her breath weapon offensively for the first time. She'd never exhaled so much flame at once before, and it obscured her entire vision. It felt as if she were suffocating, breathing only out for several long moments, almost as if she were underwater. Eventually her fire ran out and she coughed on smoke, on the last few embers crawling up her throat, and surveyed the damage.

The tree was burnt, leafless and crumbling to ash in places - but no less alive. Her eyes grew wide in fear and she began to stumble back, coughing and choking trying to find more fire within. She was reminded of the story of Midas, of finding more fire but dying in the process to save the village, and resolved herself to do whatever it took to live up to her name and protect her people. There would be no honor in running, no glory in laying down without a fight.

She continued to search, growling as she continued backward, staying out of reach of its massive arm-like branches as she slowly started to panic. Was she not dragon enough to breath fire again? Was it not coming because she had the weakness to be scared? Would her last words be nothing more than a cough and garbled scream?

Her back hit the front of someone's house and she froze as the tree finally closed the distance. She brought her hands up to cover her face, cowering, when suddenly the part of her that felt so empty after breathing the last of her fire surged, roaring back to life. Flames burst from her palms, and though she was as surprised as the tree was, she didn't let it stop her. She pushed the tree back, heart pounding louder even than the flame and the creature's distressed creaking groans. By the time the flame had once more dwindled, the tree was nothing more than a bonfire.

Villagers came out of the woodwork, whispering and shouting and cheering. She was celebrated as a hero and given the nickname "Midas" for her deeds. When asked how she had drawn upon her fire twice so quickly, she- she shrugged, and said that maybe Midas was with her all along. She didn't explain that the fire was different, it had felt different, as if while her breath weapon came from her chest, this new fire came from her core. No one had seen what happened well enough to know the flame had come from her hands.

(They were a village distrustful of magic and sorcery, especially since Midas's death, so she kept these facts to herself.)

As time went on, and as things settled back down, she became more and more restless. She was curious about her new power, and knew if she stayed in the village for the rest of her life she may never find the opportunity to use it, to experiment with it, to practice and learn it to its full potential. Dragonborn lives are short, and she didn’t want to waste any time.

She started a side project with what little wood remained of the tree creature and her own knowledge of steel, even going as far as to purchase with all her savings a ruby orb the size of her fist, to make herself a quarterstaff. She’d heard of magicians using special ones to conduct their magic, and perhaps the tree’s magical properties and her own skill and power would be enough. As soon as it was finished, she announced she would be leaving town to find her destiny. With naught but her pack and her new weapon, she left for good to explore.


End file.
